Dear Diary: Forget About IT, Sir

Dear Diary,

So you must be wondering why I waste all my time chasing after a guy I can never have. Why doesn't he move on and find someone new. Well I've tried three times in my life to get over Him and try to start a new life. All three attempts ended in disaster, leaving them heartbroken and in a state of a mess, while I really couldn't care less. Mind you, this all happened before I resulted to alcohol to ease my pain, so at least I tried.

The first guy I tried to date came to me while I was seventeen and he was twenty one. He wasn't much of a looker but he did have a nice body. He also happens to be the same guy I lost my virginity too. It all started when we exchanged messages, talking dirty to each other. I wanted to lose my virginity for some god forsaken reason, and I let him pick me up from school. We went over to his place and popped in Kung Fu Panda and cuddle on his bed. He had a roommate at the time, but she was at work, leaving us all alone. It started out innocent with just a few sensual kisses on the neck from him, but I could tell what he really wanted. I could say it was my inner psyche that told me but he also had a raging hard on in his pants that I could feel. I wanted it too, really bad, I've spent months preparing myself for the moment I lost my virginity and here was the perfect opportunity.

I rolled onto my back and asked him, for the dirty. Which, of course, he obliged my desire. After the deed was done I thought I had done something wrong, because I felt no orgasm or built in climax. In fact the entire time we were fucking, I was laughing. Who does that in bed, I always thought you did a lot of groaning and moaning, along with some screaming. I later found out that size does matter, but so does the motion.

We met up again later that week, because I wanted to give it another try, just in case I did do something wrong. We ended up driving to the outskirts of my hometown and hooking up in the back of his car. I got the same results as last time, only it was a little more cramped. He was horrible in bed, and I, being a freshly broken virgin, even knew that.

The end of the relationship ended the same day. He drove me home, telling me I love you to whom I replied "I feel absolutely nothing for you, I'm sorry but this wasn't what I'm looking for." I had broken his heart and left him in the dust without even realizing what I had done. Would I have done anything differently? I would have kept my virginity.

~xXx~

The second guy was also a hook up, and we we're both on the same terms as well. I was spending the weekend at my grandmother's house, and he lived in a nearby town. I had received a text from him, saying he found my number on Facebook. It had been eight months since I lost my virginity, and I hadn't received any since. It also happened to be the day before my birthday.

He drove out to my grandmother's house while she was away at work, and I was all alone. We sat on the couch and talked for a while, getting to know each other before the inevitable happened. His name was Brutus, and he was a linebacker at his high school. This was a complete turn on for me; I've always got a kick from footballers. He was a year older than I was, in his senior year.

I couldn't stand not getting him out of his clothes. I wanted him and I wanted sex, bad. I attacked him in mid-sentence, crashing my lips against him, feeling his rock hard abs and smooth pictorials. He was a sloppy kisser, but what lack in that department he made up in the lower compartment if you know what I mean. I could feel how big it was through is jeans, and he was packing. I straddled him sitting on his lap, soaking in that hard feeling. I leaned my head back so he could give me kisses on my neck. His hand slid down to my waist, to where he was met with my own boner. I looked into his eyes; the hunger in his eyes mirrored my own. I knew what was going to happen before it did.

I shed off his letterman jacket, and led him to my designated room at Grammy's. I locked the door with a sock of mine hanging on the door.

Three hours later, we came out of the room where I made him dinner. I believe it was my famous spaghetti and garlic bread. Simple to make, yet charming and romantic. I am proud to say that we both gobbled that up until the pan was empty. Sex burns up a lot of calories, and a linebacker is the epitome of calories. By then night had fallen.

After dinner he had helped me with dishes, which was kind of odd, but it melted away with bubbles being tossed and smeared on our faces between kisses. It took us a complete hour to wash a few pots and pans, and dinnerware for two.

Then he left, and hadn't seen him since. He neglected to mention before sex, that he was moving away in two weeks, so when he eventually told me as he was getting into his car, I was surprised, but I had played it off coolly. I watched his car disappear into the horizon. I turned back to go inside, and a thought crossed my mind. I could have been happy with him for the rest of my life, too bad it was only a booty call, and I had made it a point to remind him of that very fact.

~xXx~

The last guy was a huge mistake. I had met him a local Rave, which was surprise because in my community gays simply don't exist. So finding one, a cute one at that, here was great. I love to dance, a lot and the Raves are perfect, safe, outlets for me to shake my thang, and show all the straight guys what they would be missing. I see it in their eyes, they wish they could have me for just one night, but society pressure simply doesn't allow that. So instead they play it out with their girls, wishing it was me. I don't go to Raves very often though, once a month, because my diabetes demands that with strenuous activity, comes a great big meal.

I had been suffering with it since I was eight, or at least that's as far as I could remember. I was finally diagnosed at the age of fifteen. It was then that I got the question of a lifetime. Do you want insulin or do you want to control it by diet? It may seem like a simple question, but it altered me as person. I chose to control it with my diet, with a renewed justice. I want to lead a life in psychology, and I want to help my patients recover in the most natural way possible. In a world consumed in drugs, there is no room for nature.

Back to the Rave. I was dancing with my lady friends, as I always do. Occasionally insert myself in between to complete strangers just to spice things up. That's how I make friends at the Rave, I put myself out there. It just so happened that he and his best girl friend, were the ones that I came between. I saw him picking up my grove early, so I decided to show him what I really got.

As the beat builds I move my body in a wave motion, which builds into a crump, and right before it drops, I practically vibrate my body. I don't know how I do it; I just do, but hey if you got it, flaunt it! When the beat does drop, I drop… to the floor. And pick it up slowly. Then I WERK my booty off shaking it better than Shakira if I do say so myself.

The instant I felt his hand on my lady bum I knew I had him hooked. So I took him home with me that night. The poor boy couldn't keep his hands or his lips to himself. He wanted me in a way that has only happened twice in my life, sex. So I gave it to him, I figured I had a chance of making it last if he wanted me this bad. Then the problems came.

He was C-l-i-n-g-y- clingy. He wouldn't stop calling me, we constantly had to talk or text or skype. It was as if he was up my ass (ah- thank you) he wouldn't leave me alone. And when we were together, he was always touching, obsessing over me. It got to the point where I had a screaming match with him, trying to get him to realize that we were through.

When he finally left, he wasn't done. He was constantly showing up at my house, to which I would never answer the door. He would try and message me over and over again; I have hundreds of messages from him. Thank god we moved when we did, is all I have to say. I ditched my phone and blocked him on all websites, completely getting rid of him.

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So Diary, now you know that I had tried. I tried to replace him with lackluster substitutes and where did it land me. I was meant to be with him I just know it, how else can you explain all the problems I have dating other men. I'm done settling with other men, I am going to get what I want, or die trying.

Tell me what you think, what you are thinking, or what you thought about my story!

Please read & review and let your voices be heard. I am listening.

XOxXx,

Crystal Heartlace